


the only flaw: you are flawless

by jbbames (artifice)



Series: put me in the dirt, let me be with the stars [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Awkwardness, Best Friends, Cute, First Kiss, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Happy, Love Confessions, M/M, Piano, i dislike mozart so much it's stopped being funny, pianist Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 18:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19978426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artifice/pseuds/jbbames
Summary: “You could mess up the whole piece, and I’d still think you’re the greatest musician to ever grace this Earth,” Steve says, settling down on the chair beside the bench.And, well. Now Buckyknowshe’s going to fuck this up.





	the only flaw: you are flawless

**Author's Note:**

> me, putting a band-aid over the last fic in this series: sometimes all you need in life is a whole lot of unabashed fluff 
> 
> [series playlist here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6dD3nFHjQtq0HVoRPxbYFs?si=U-IHMVdEQcKP1q5e6kCWoQ)

_**If I told you that I loved you** _  
_**Tell me, what would you say?** _

* * *

_July 4, 2003_

“Play something for me?”

Steve’s over again for lunch, as per tradition on his birthday—it’s the big 13, the day Steve Rogers becomes a full-fledged teen, and Bucky’s excited as shit. He’d only turned 14 a few months ago, so it feels good to welcome Steve to the proverbial fold, because _yes_ , these things matter. And, y’know, it’s always weird seeming two years older than Steve, when really, he’s the more mature of the two.

Bucky digresses.

“What do you wanna hear?” He drawls, propping himself up from where he’s sprawled over Steve’s legs on the couch. With one clumsy motion, he reaches for the TV remote on the coffee table and presses mute on the infomercial.

Steve bats his eyelashes. “The pretty Chopin Étude you’re working on?”

Shit, it’s still a little rough. But. Steve.

“Aye aye, captain.” He rolls off Steve and lands with a light _oof_ on the floor. “Don’t blame me when your ears bleed, though.”

Steve’s laughter rings in his ears, prettier than anything Chopin could come up with. Without further deliberation on _that_ particular thought, Bucky lifts the fallboard and folds the keyboard cover carefully, setting it on the lid. He plops down on the bench next to a thick stack of books (mostly Henle Verlag editions of various famed collections—it cost a pretty penny, but like. Quality) and fishes out his book of Chopin Études.

“You could mess up the whole piece, and I’d still think you’re the greatest musician to ever grace this Earth,” Steve says, settling down on the chair beside the bench. And, well. Now he _knows_ he’s going to fuck this up.

Red-faced, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the important parts of the piece: Key? F minor. Don’t forget the E natural, pay attention to accidentals. Starting dynamic? Piano. Sing, not only because that’s what Chopin wanted, but because while you haven’t experienced heartbreaking anguish, you _love_ this étude, and it wants—needs— to be shown. Keep the left hand light. Relax your shoulders, you’re too tense. Feel the floor beneath your feet. Take another deep breath. And…

Bucky doesn’t mess it up as much as he thought he would. Chopin’s rolling in his grave, probably, because of all the little things that went wrong, but overall? He thinks he did an okay work-in-progress performance.

Steve is staring at him with a strange, unreadable expression (which is new, because Bucky knows all of Steve’s expressions—except this one, apparently).

“Thank you.” He says, voice thick, and he clears his throat. “That was—really. It was full of. That was. You’re— really good.”

Bucky wants to be modest, but something in Steve’s eyes makes him think they’re not really talking about the piece anymore. He gives a small smile in response and blushes harder. “Thanks, bud.”

Steve gives him a weird look again. “No, really, what— that was. Uhm, what were you thinking about? I just— for future reference with my composing.”

What was he thinking about?

Well, not much of anything, really. He zones out when he plays, 90% of the time, probably. But. What’s he always thinking about, right?

“You.”

His best friend is still unreadable, and Bucky’s starting to feel the claws of panic dig into his lungs.

“I’m always thinking of you,” he clarifies, then blushes impossibly harder when he realizes how it sounds.

Though small, it’s a comfort nonetheless to see Steve as flushed with embarrassment and awkwardness as he is. Steve’s mouth opens and closes like— Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker, or something, while he visibly struggles with his thoughts. Maybe it’s because they’d never really, like, _talked_ about emotionally meaningful things on a regular basis that they’re struck by this terrible… thing. Where Bucky can’t move and Steve is too scared to take the leap, for once.

“I know this is going to sound so, so wrong,” Steve suddenly blurts out, turning impossibly redder. “But I’ve seen the way you flirt with the girls in class, and I’ve seen, well. You. And. I just.”

Bucky chews on his bottom lip in worry. Is. Is Steve. What’s he. Doing?

Steve continues, “I just. I know this is going to sound so, so presumptuous of me, especially if it’s wrong, but like, we’ve known each other for so long, and it might be better, almost, to get this out of the way—”

“Are you friend-dumping me right now?” Bucky feels like all the blood in his veins has stopped flowing. Steve’s figured it out, hasn’t he? That Bucky—that Bucky’s _._ That he’s. He’s.

“No! No, oh, my God, not—not unless you—?” the blond looks one step away from hysteria.

Unsurprisingly, Bucky feels much the same. “Well, you gotta give me a reason to break off a lifelong friendship, Stevie,” he says, and his voice climbs unsteadily in—in some sort of emotion that he doesn’t even have words for right now, okay, he’s fucking fourteen, is this his heart splitting in two? Is he just being overdramatic? Is—

“I like you!”

A beat of silence.

“Like. The girls that chase you around at recess pretending to hate your guts. But they, like, _like_ you. I. I’m.”

“Gay?” Bucky whispers as though the word is a curse. It burns on his tongue.

“No!” Steve immediately looks like he wants to choke on his own tongue. “Yes! No, I mean—”

“—Because if you are, I mean, like, it’s like, okay now,”

“But I like girls,”

“Well, I d—okay, I guess,”

“And I like you.”

A beat.

“This is very confusing.”

Steve gives him a smile, but it wavers around the edges as he trembles. “I’m very confused as well. But I also know that, uhm. I would—like to”—he clears his throat— “kiss you. If you—feel the same, which. By your étude. Or like, I mean, I don’t know, I’m partially deaf in one ear and only good at theory, but—”

Bucky leans in too quickly and smashes his nose against Steve’s cheek, their lips barely brushing before Bucky reels back in horror.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry,” he babbles, and the embarrassment is tearing him in two, but then—

Then Steve’s smiling for real, and he’s leaning in slowly now, and Bucky’s gonna go cross-eyed, so he closes his eyes, waits, and— lets the soft press of Steve’s lips against his bottom one make him exhale in relief. He shifts to wrap his right arm around Steve’s shoulders and pull him closer, left hand coming to rest on the blond’s jawline. He feels one hand on his lap and one at his chest, gripping his shirt like a lifeline. Somewhere in his conscious, he notes the heat from Steve’s cheeks as their mouths slide clumsily against each other—it’s simultaneously wet and dry, and above all, still so very _awkward_ , because sometimes they fall out of sync, which—okay, yes, that’s weird too, not being on the same wavelength for once.

It feels like time gets put on hold in those moments spent necking with Steve. How could it possibly move when, between that first and nth kiss, Steve was the only other person in the universe? Steve and Becca’s rickety, plastic chair and Bucky’s piano bench and Yamaha C2, frozen in some perfect, perfect vignette during a time that never existed. And perhaps Steve’s sappiness is finally rubbing off on him, because this feels so awfully cliché, but Bucky doesn’t even _mind_.

“I’m not mad,” Bucky says once they pull apart, foreheads still touching, eyes still closed, “at my life right now.”

Steve laughs again, and _God_ , that sound. Mozart fucking _wishes_ he could even— _begin_ to compare to the sheer— _musicality_ , the ineffable joy and utter beauty of it. Also, like, fuck Mozart.

“Best birthday present ever,” Steve concludes. “Thank you, Bucky.”

And damn it all, Bucky’s face had finally calmed down somewhat, but now it’s all flushed again with happiness. Not that he’s really complaining.

“I like you so much,” he whispers, unable to hide his smile.

Steve kisses him again.

(It’s much, much later when Bucky realizes he’s stopped loathing piano so much. Maybe it’s because he fell in love with it again after they sold the upright and got a grand, or maybe it’s because Steve’s developed a habit of squeezing onto the bench with Bucky, and now, he’s psychologically associated Piano™ with Unconditional Love™. Whatever the reason, Ms. Morita seems pleased with his progress, and honestly? A happy piano teacher after one weekly, _grueling_ hour of frustration means a happy life.)

**Author's Note:**

> fuck it i love it hey bucky run up the budget ! *static sounds* u can talk to me on [twitter!](https://twitter.com/artificiaIis)
> 
> ugh y'all if i had a dollar for every time i was told "relax your shoulders!!" and "longer lines!!!" and "sing!!!!" i'd be a fucking millionaire i s2g
> 
> anyways, i never played [bucky's particular étude](https://open.spotify.com/track/0ASqVYemjhCBFWd36VGlFn?si=gy00ZLJLRn-GXUpvFbZHiQ)\- 14 year old me was Angry™ and took greater pleasure in fucking up the [revolutionary étude (footage of fetus me lol)](https://youtu.be/rIJsWQyDDuQ), but i skimmed through the sheet music, so i hope i got the basic points down. whoops!


End file.
